


Darkness Follows Them

by nelyonelyo



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 08:12:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13383762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nelyonelyo/pseuds/nelyonelyo
Summary: Brief talk between Maglor and Maedhros about how they cannot stay with Elrond and Elros forever





	Darkness Follows Them

“We cannot stay here forever, Maglor.”

Maglor remained seated on the edge of his bed and did not look up. “Why? Why not?” he asked softly.

“You know exactly why. The oath-”

Maglor stood up now. “The oath! It’s always the damn oath! We are fucked either way, Maedhros. We can run up north. We can kill some more elves. Orphan some more children maybe! We will still fail! It does not matter! We may be under an oath, but we are under a curse as well.”

“You think I don’t remember that we are cursed? Really, brother, really? You think I don’t know that?” His voice grew louder in defensive aggression. “Have you seen me? Have you? I know these things, Maglor! I know! The same blood that drips from your fingers drips from mine.”

Maglor, too, raised his voice. “Oh? You know? Is that so? Well it sure hasn’t reached your mind fully, or else you’d understand?”

“Understand? Understand what? That we will not succeed, because of this curse? I understand that. But do you know what would happen if we stayed here? Under the curse? It would reach us. It always reaches us. Evil will reach us. It will-”

“Evil will not reach us. Not if Morgoth and his Lieutenant fall.”

Maedhros paused and sighed. “Maglor, it was not Morgoth and his Lieutenant who cursed us. Nor was it Morgoth and his Lieutenant that killed our brothers. It was us. Ourselves. We are the danger. We are the ones who carry the evil on our shoulders. We will find evil no matter where we are. Elves. Humans. Maiar. Valar. Ourselves. Evil is not unique to the dark lords.”

“You are right that it was not us who killed our brothers. It was the oath. The oath you love so much.” Maglor spat out each word like it was a bone stuck in his teeth.

“The oath did not do everything to us. The majority of our battles were not for the oath alone. They were for the peoples of middle earth. They were against Angband, not just for Silmarils. Fingon...did not die of the oath.”

“He died because of your battle. Which you started. Knowing damn well you were cursed.”

“Not all of our battles failed, Maglor. I did not know it would end like that. That was supposed to be the one to fix it all. If it worked, we could have taken Angband. And do not act like it was solely my idea. So many houses joined the Union. You know this. I did not kill him.”

“Oh, so it was the curse that killed our brothers, but Fingon’s death had _nothing_ to do with _any_ of that? Totally unrelated to your own curse? How do you figure that one? Hm? Our plans always fail. And kill everyone involved. You know this. You knew this the whole time. You know it’s what killed Fingon. He’s a Noldo. He’s bound to the fate we set.”

“Stop. It isn’t like that. I didn’t kill him. It wasn’t our fault. It was not the curse. It should have worked. It was Morgoth...the Balrogs. It was not me. No. Not me.”

“You should really hear yourself talk. You said it was us, our oath and curse, who killed our brothers and is now endangering the young twins You said it is what causes failure. So which is it, Mae? Does everyone die because of the curse, or does everyone die because of Morgoth?” Maglor asked him.”

Maedhros did not respond. He nervously made his hand into a fist, scrunching it tight. He looked at the floor.

“Which is it? Are we in danger because of the darkness of Angband, or because of the darkness that follows ourselves?”

Maedhros responded, quieter now. “It can be both. We are at larger risk for failure. I know that. But our deeds have not earned us everything that has come to pass.”

“The Valar know what comes to pass. The curse if from the Valar-”

Maedhros interjected, “I know. I know it is the Valar. When I was on Thangorodrim, the eagles of Manwe were there. They were there, in the cliffs, watching. I would scream. I would pray. Manwe saw all, as he always has been able to. They knew I was there. They saw me. They never helped me. They watched. They just watched. They only intervened when Fingon was willing to let me die. They just watched, Maglor, they just watched. Do you think Manwe condoned what happened there? Do you think he saw it fit punishment for a Feanorian? I think so. I know so. Or else he would have stepped in. The eagles were there. They had nothing better to do. They could have freed me. They did not. Manwe wanted me to suffer, Maglor. This is the curse. Maybe I deserved it. Fingon said I didn’t. I think I did. Manwe thinks I did. That was the curse. But you know what else, Maglor? I was not the only elf hurt there. In Angband there were others. Sindar. Avari. Children. They had no curse. But they were pressed down and cut open just as I was. That is no curse. That is Morgoth. Sometimes, evil is done for no reason. Sometimes people are not deservant of what is done to them. Sometimes there is no curse, there is merely unjustified evil. I do not think Fingon deserved his death. He was a good man. Finrod….Fingon….Aredhel….none of them did anything wrong. If the Valar killed them for a curse, perhaps it is the Valar who are dealing unjustified evil. Maglor, I thought about this. What if Fingon was killed as part of the curse? What if Fingon was killed because the Valar knew how it would hurt me. I am no longer in Angband. But I am not free. Manwe simply watches. And I am hurt. But I did not kill him. It was not me. It was some form of evi. It does not matter if the execution came from the forces of Angband or the curse from Valinor.”

“Mae, you aren’t making sense. So which is it? Are the boys in danger of Morgoth, or of our curse?”

“Both! Both! All of it! I do not know! I don’t know what killed Fingon, alright? I don’t know why these things happen. People die. People get hurt. Sometimes we deserve it. Sometimes we don’t. All I know is that evil follows us far more than it does others. And that we do have a curse. It is not everything, but it is some. And being here, just being here, with our oath and our curse, brings all this to Elrond and Elros. We cannot stay here. The fight continues in the north. We will join in.”

“Evil will befall us. We will fight, and we will die. You know this. You say evil will come to us here? Will it not come to us more swiftly if we ran to it? Mae, you still are not making sense. If I stay here, we run risk of danger. If we go, we will meet certain danger. And the boys still remain at risk. It’s like you said. It reaches innocents. What difference is it?”

“We are lightning rods, Maglor. You know this. Evil drifts by everywhere. But its hand is firmly upon us. You are selfish. If we stay here they will be hurt. You know this.”

“Selfish? Selfish, am I, Maedhros? For once in our lives, we are at peace. Look at this. We have a cabin. We have a family. We are safe, and at peace. The boys are happy. They are safe. Is it selfish for me to want to live like this forever?”

“You know it is impossible. You know we cannot escape the oath.”

Maglor frowned.

Maedhros continued. “We have to go. We have to leave them, and return to our fate.”

“Where will we leave them? They are children! They haven’t even reached their fiftieth year!”

“Gil-Galad.” Maedhros declared soundly. “Fingon’s boy. He does not hate us yet. He is a good leader, perhaps he will be future king. He will take care of them.”

“He is young.”

“He is old enough,” Maedhros replied quickly.

Maglor sat back down on the edge of his bed. “I do not want to leave them. I love them.”

Maedhros sat next to him. “I love them as well. Which I why I want the best for them. I do not want them to remain entwined in our fate.”

Maglor shook his head but could not manage to find words.

Maedhros put his arm around his brother, bringing him into a hug. “I know.”

Maglor looked up at him. “We’re going to die, aren’t we? We are going to fight, and we are going to die. We are not going to get the Silmarils. This won’t work.”

Maedhros did not release Maglor from the hug, but he did continue. “Maybe. We might fail. But we might succeed this time. There are maiar fighting there, now. They might win. Morgoth might fall. We can get the Silmarils, and this can be over.”

Maglor began to cry. He felt small in Maedhros’s arms, and it reminded him of when they were children. “I don’t want to die, Nelyo. I don’t want to die.”

Maedhros had no answer.


End file.
